


Glue Me

by endlessblu



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Smuggler Storyline Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26395807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessblu/pseuds/endlessblu
Summary: After the discovery in his meeting with Rogun on Tatooine, Ticcer shuts himself away on his ship. Only Risha can break his silence.Spoilers for chapter three of the smuggler class story.
Relationships: Risha Drayen/Male Smuggler
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Glue Me

No words were spoken on the speeder ride back to the _Firebird_. Risha had never known him be so quiet in the three years since they'd met; if anything, the challenge was more getting him to stop talking. Usually he never shied from offering up some daft comment or typical smuggler boast for her to roll her eyes at, like he enjoyed setting her up to make a witty comeback. But this time, nothing. His eyes focused solely ahead, a scowl etched upon his face ever since Rogun's hideout. 

They'd gotten closer in the past few months, close enough that they could actually call it a relationship after so long flirting without making commitments. She'd never intended to let things get this far – after all, taking her throne was always _supposed_ to be the priority – but she'd never quite managed to hide the smile that formed every time she heard those familiar footsteps approach her room on the ship. She'd spent all that time trying to resist him for the sake of her future, but truthfully she'd much rather spend time with him than some refined, pretty noble like Merritt Rineld. Ticcer was rough around the edges, about as far away from the ideal king as she could find, yet that drew her to him even more. He didn't worry about sucking up to her, he wanted to be with her before he ever knew about the throne, and finding out didn't change the way he treated her at all. And yes, he was definitely nice to look at as well. Though the trouble was telling him that without getting one of his 'I told you so' grins back. 

The mood was different now though. Since the meeting with Rogun and his men, the discovery about Darmas and the senator, a wall had gone up around him. There'd been none of his usual swagger when he took out Rogun and seized his criminal empire for himself, something that should have been cause for celebration. Instead there was an unnerving coldness in his voice that hadn't been there before. 

From the moment they started working together, it had been obvious that the Empire was a sore spot for him. He never really talked about his past, or at least nothing before he started smuggling, but she'd run background checks when she first met him and she had her theories. Ticcer was so obviously a nickname that she _had_ to do a bit of poking, after all; and it was best to know what she was working with if they were going after her father's treasure. She traced Ticcer Marzan back to a Ticcanledri Marzan from the planet they'd met and, well. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened to someone growing up on Coruscant at _that_ time. The shockwaves were still being felt in the Republic more than a decade later; it was no surprise that personal scars ran so deep too. There was no need to press him on it. Hating the Empire that way, always having his guard raised, that all made sense. 

“Come on, let's get moving,” he grunted, helping her off the speeder before setting off towards the ship at such a pace she had to jog to keep up. The rest of the crew had already gathered in the docking bay outside, Guss apparently in the middle of another story that left Akaavi exasperated and Corso fighting back tears of laughter. 

“Hey Captain, where we headed?” Corso tried to ask, but Ticcer marched past him and straight into the ship without so much as a glance. “What's up with him?”

Risha shook her head frantically, firing off warning glares at each of them before they followed him up the ramp. “Don't ask. Don't say a word.” 

Ticcer was already waiting in the cockpit when they caught up to him, drumming his hands against his thighs as he paced from side to side. 

“Finally,” he said brusquely. “Corso, set a course for Corellia.” His words were sharp, his eyes avoiding the bewildered stares of his crew. He left the cockpit as abruptly as he'd spoken, leaving them all in a stunned silence.

Corso turned back to Risha. “Do you want to tell us what's happening? Are things okay with you two?”

“ _We_ are fine. Rogun's dead. But it turns out Pollaran and Dodonna are traitors, all those jobs were to help the Empire, not the Republic.” Corso sunk back, grasping towards his seat at her words, Bowdaar giving a loud growl of anger. Major players in the underworld they may all be these days, but there were still those who had a personal stake in seeing the Empire defeated, just like their captain. Even Akaavi, the most favourable to the Empire of all of them, seethed with disgust, spitting about dishonour and muttering in Mando'a under her breath. 

A barrage of questions followed all at once, but Risha could barely muster her response. The news had been a sucker punch straight into the guts of them all, and of course they wanted to know what the plan was from here. But where normally she had a great scheme to share, now even she was coming up short. Go to Corellia, but then what? And what could a crew do if their Captain couldn't lead them?

She only wanted to find him, comfort him, reassure him – but what could she say to even begin to make things better? Nearly two years they'd worked with them, two years spent trusting the wrong people. Even if he did it to line his own pockets rather than those of the Republic, a betrayal like this was probably the cruellest thing they could have done to him. He wasn't a man to let go of his grudges, the way he'd chased down Skavak had been a testament to that. And this was the Empire, this meant _more_. He'd never claimed to be a Republic patriot, see them as the good guys like Corso did, but there'd always been a pattern in the jobs he'd taken. Money, yes, but also hitting the Empire where it hurt. It was how he'd always justified picking up those extra jobs the Republic offered, even as she teased him for being their lackey. Hating the Empire often went hand in hand with helping the Republic, and at least he was wise enough to make credits from it too.

She didn't have a personal stake in the same way. _He_ was her personal stake, and there was no way to sugar-coat the pain he was in now, no kind words that could make it all disappear. Watching him shut himself away like this was a struggle, but it didn't even begin to compare to the way he hurt right now.

* * * * * * * * 

The _Firebird_ was eerily quiet for the rest of the journey to Corellia. Normally Risha would have been relieved for their antics to die down for just a minute, but now the ship was barren and devoid of energy. Meals were taken in near-silence, none of them wanting to venture beyond small talk. Even Guss had lost his usual spark, refraining from his typically bizarre stories that kept the crew amused on long journeys. 

Ticcer hadn't been seen for hours, retreating to his quarters before the ship had even got off the ground. It had been an unspoken agreement among the rest of them that he wasn't to be disturbed. But someone had to break the silence eventually, and that someone had to be her. Bracing herself, she knocked at the door of his quarters. No response. She tried calling his name, but still got nothing back. She was on the brink of giving up when to her surprise, the door finally opened.

He lay perfectly still on the bed, eyes fixed upon the ceiling, with no acknowledgement of her entry to the room at all. He still wore his clothes from Tatooine, not even bothering to remove his boots or take the guns out from the holsters at his hips. It couldn't have been comfortable, but he didn't seem to care. The charm and presence that normally filled a room had been replaced by little more than a shell.

She removed her coat and lay down beside him, placing the most careful of kisses on his cheek. He tensed for a second at the contact, but soon pulled her closer and took her hand in his. His clasp was firm, needing, like he couldn't let her go.

“They've played me for a fool, Rish. All this time, they were just using me,” he croaked, the small voice miles away from the brash, cocky smuggler captain he presented to others. Words usually came so easily to her, but in this moment none were right. He'd never been this way in front of her before, so raw, so vulnerable. They were normally so playful when they spoke, even in a serious conversation, but none of that suited now.

“I can't say something that will make things better,” she sighed. “But I do know you won't let them beat you without a fight.” She cursed the clichéd words of inspiration, that she didn't have something better to offer. He said nothing else, just stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and shifted his stare to where their hands met. Hours could have passed, or perhaps it was only a few minutes before he broke the silence again.

“You being here...it's enough.” 

There was no use pushing him further. If he wanted to speak, he would, and she promised herself that she would be there to listen when that moment came. 

And if lying here now could ease just a fraction of his pain, she would do that too for as long as he needed. 

* * * * * * * *

She hadn't realised she'd fallen asleep until the ship's alarms bleated out, signalling their impending arrival to Corellia. She had to flex her neck after resting on his chest for so long, but he sprung into life straight away like a fresh wind was powering through him. He charged through the ship, startling the crew with the sudden burst of energy, dishing out instructions and barking at them to gather their guns and gear for the fight ahead. He was a general readying his troops for battle, only this was no military fight. This war was one fuelled by revenge and personal pride only. 

The rest of the crew descended the ship's ramp, but a hand on her arm stopped her before she could follow. 

“Hey,” he said softly, pausing as pale blue eyes met her brown. “Thank you.” 

The stare lingered, filled with truth even as the words went unspoken.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Glue Me' by Los Campesinos!


End file.
